


Day 161

by Josh_the_Bard



Series: A Year in Kirkwall [161]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24652909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josh_the_Bard/pseuds/Josh_the_Bard
Relationships: Tomwise/Feja, Tomwise/OC
Series: A Year in Kirkwall [161]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589257
Kudos: 1





	Day 161

Feja rolled over in Tomwise’s bed and watched the elf sleep for a moment. The night before they had been making poisons and talking shop and one thing had led to another. Tomwise babbled in his sleep, nothing coherent, the only thing she could make out were some plant names and types of knives.

Feja rolled out of bed and collected her clothes from the night before. As Tomwise was still asleep she decided to make her exit while she still could. She pulled on her boots and slipped out of the bedroom as quietly as possible.

In the main room there were no less than three young elves. One was cooking a meal at the hearth and the other two seemed to be cleaning equipment. All three stopped and stared at Feja with interest.

“Um… good morning, Mam,” one of them said.

Well, there was no way she was joining to make a discrete exit now.

“What are you making there?” she asked the elf at the hearth.

“Oatmeal, with a bit of honey and some berries.”

“Sounds great, I’ll have a bowl,” she said, seating herself at the table. The elves looked uncertain. 

“Mr. Tomwise,” one of them called out. She looked from Feja to the bedroom door. “Sir?”

A few moments later Tomwise stumbles sleepily out of the bedroom clad only in plain brown trousers. Clearly the man led an active life. Feja wondered if he even felt sore after their clashes with the undead. Feja’s had not stopped aching since the first time, and today, a whole new set of muscles were protesting.

“Cavel, Lethan, Vaya,” he said in greeting. “Good morning to you all. I see you have met Feja.”

“She says she wants some porridge,” Vaya complained. 

“Well then, add a few more berries to fill it out,” Tomwise instructed. Cavel, at the hearth, did as instructed but Feja could hear him muttering under his breath. It was. Without a doubt, the most awkward meal Feja had ever eaten. Tomwise’s assistants (Apprentices? Servants? Why did an independent businessman like Tomwise have multiple assistants, while Feja, who had been a full member of the Carta, have to rely on her good-for-nothing-sister?) were tight lipped and Feja didn’t much feel like breaking the silence. She wondered how common it was for Tomwise to have people over, from their reaction it seemed like not very.

“Well,” she said as soon as she was finished eating, “I should get back to my laboratory and make sure it hasn't burned down or anything.” She forced a laugh but no one else did.

Tomwise stood as well, leaving his bowl unfinished.

“I’ll walk you home,” he offered. “This lot can prep for our work today. We’ll be making some demonic poison as I have obtained some demon ichor that I don’t want to waste. Which means we will need?”

“Some corrupting agent,” Lethan replied.

“No, idiot,” Vaya said, with a harshness that implied familiarity. Lethan blew his nose at the girl who shrieked and jumped out of her chair. Tomwise met Feja’s gaze and rolled his eyes.

“Settle down,” he sighed. “Now that we know what we don’t need: can anyone tell me what we do need?”

“Concentrator agent,” Cavel replied. 

“You’ll want about a third more than you’re used to,” Feja suggested. “The reclamation process isn’t perfect.”

Tomwise gave her a thankful nod and they made their way out and back towards Feja’s house. When they got there it was immediately clear that something was wrong. The front door was slightly ajar. She never left without locking the door. Without needing to be told, Tomwise drew his daggers and took up position beside the door. 

Feja eased the door just wide enough for her to slip inside. Everything was quiet but that was no reason to relax. It looked like a storm had passed through her place. Furniture was overturned, drawkers had been emptied on the floor, all her clothes were strewn about. 

In a panic Feja rushed down to her laboratory. Tomwise called out something behind her but she didn’t hear. Everything was destroyed. Her glassware had been smashed. Her stockpile of reagents was gone and her tools had been tossed in the fire to melt. The protection of the Carta had been rescinded and now she was paying for it. Tomwise was not the only poisoner she had stolen clients from, and someone had apparently decided to shut her down permanently. If she had been here last night...

Feja sank to her knees. She didn’t know what to do. Now she couldn’t even fill the contracts that had gotten her exiled from the Carta in the first place. She would default on her debts. Varric had a reputation for being a little soft but he had no love for the Carta and might come after her with everything he had. Feja was no fool, if the Champion of Kirkwall himself came after her she had about as much chance for survival as a nug in Dust Town.

Feja burst into tears. Heady heaving sobs, so forceful that she couldn’t catch her breath. For weeks she had been on the edge of disaster and now everything was going wrong at once.

Feja felt a hand on her shoulder. Tomwise was there, looking at what remained of her laboratory.

“It’s all gone,” she sobbed. “I’m finished. I guess this means you can get your clients back. I suppose you’re happy about that.”

“No,” Tomwise said. He sat down beside Feja and let her lean into his shoulder. “This doesn't feel like a win.” They were both silent for a long time, except for Feja’s sobs.

“Come back with me,” Tomwise said. Feja looked up at him, confused. “We work well together. I have more than enough equipment to handle all the clients you’ve… acquired and we work well together.”

“Whoever did this will just come after you too,” she protested.

“Not me,” he said. “I count the Champion among my friends. I’m all but untouchable in this city.”

“I owe people money,” she said.

“I can pay,” Tomwise insisted. “Please, join me as a partner.” He handed her a handkerchief and she whipped her eyes and nose with it. She considered his offer for a long while before nodding.

“Alright,” she said. Tomwise smiled at her. It was a warm and genuine and comforting smile.

“We should have a look around before we leave,” he said. “There might be some things around here worth salvaging.”

They helped each other to their feet, rolled up their sleeves and, together, got to work.


End file.
